A Little Bit Slower
by ToxicFreedom
Summary: Several years after Salem's demise and running the Schnee Dust Company, Weiss finds need for a change in pace. (one-shot)


Long silvery-white hair waved in the breeze as a woman in her late twenties stepped off the train, onto the station platform, suitcase in hand and a small smile on her face. The platform was old, with the only protection being the small overhang provided by the adjacent station, which showed it's age easily in its styling and worn look.

Tucking a stray bang behind her left ear, she entered the station building, greeting the old stationmaster warmly, who returned it the same. Asking for directions the woman got a simple answer of "It's been too long since I been out there, can't tell ya where" giving a pause and a scratch to his head, the old man continued, "But, I bet if ya ask ol' Gord, the owner of the general store in town, he could probably tell ya where it's at." Giving quick thanks to the ticket agent, the visitor exited the station and looked down the dirt road towards the small town, a good walks away. Looking down at her outfit, a simple white button up paired with a long pale brown skirt and baby blue flats, she found everything in place. Thanking the light cloud cover shading her from the afternoon sun, she started towards the town.

The road followed the railway, before the latter turned off, presumably to go around the town, or to some other outskirts village. Lining the road were a set of utility poles which were adjacent to the rail line, feeding power to the old station. Enjoying the beautiful late spring weather that always graced South-Eastern Sanus, the white haired woman closed her eyes and started to hum, taking her time walking.

*Schnee*

Staring up at the weathered sign that read 'Lightfoot General Store' in block letters, the traveler concluded she was in the correct place. With a jingle of a bell, the door opened and once again an older man though one younger than the old stationmaster, looked up from his book, eyeing the newcomer. Said newcomer was looking at the contents and decorations of the store, which was illuminated by the late afternoon sunlight, which caught particles of dust in its rays. Adorning the walls were old signs, joining them, aged Dust tins and other containers of the sort sat on high shelves. What truly caught her diamond eyes though, was a faded, yet well kept enamel painted metal sign behind the clerk, and printed in old art nouveau was the name Schnee in a pale blue, standing against a white background. The paint was cracked due to its age, but it held a certain beauty in that imperfection of time.

Shaking her head, she reminded herself why she was here. Turning her attention to the man behind the counter, who regarded her with warm hazel eyes from behind a pair of glasses, he held a small smile, finding amusement in the woman's curiosity of his shop. With a light laugh, he asked her if she needed help. Nodding in agreement, she asked the same question she had asked the man at the train station. Getting a positive response and a set of directions from him, she thanked the man with a small curtsy. Turning to leave she caught her reflection in a mirror, seeing that the sky blue ribbon that kept her ponytail in place was in the position she'd done it in that morning, made her smile that she had since arriving in this quaint part of Remnant, a little bigger. Readying herself for another walk with a quick dusting of her skirt, she picked up her suitcase and left the General Store.

*Schnee*

Walking up the long driveway made out of two lines of gravel that never really stayed parallel, the weary traveller noted the many outlying buildings that littered the large property, all of which surrounded a brick house that lent itself to the years past, with chipped bricks and some walls sporting wooden siding. She could just make out an enclosed porch around the back, and was headed for the front door when she heard a clatter from one of the outer buildings, a work shed from the looks of it. Upon reaching the wide open doors of the wooden structure, she leaned forward and peeked in. She was greeted with the sight of a man in what used to be a white buttoned shirt, now slightly yellowed over time and stained beige slacks held up by brown suspenders, bending over under the hood of a pickup truck that was at least eight decades old. The man was clearly disgruntled by something, coming from his exclamation of "come on ya-" before he was interrupted by the white haired woman standing in the doorway, the fading sunlight warming her back.

"Jaune." The now named Jaune jumped, banging his head on the hood above him, making him elicit a few choice words, while he withdrew his head, showing close-cut combed back blond hair. Looking at the newcomer, he blinked a few times.

"I be damned," An innocent lopsided grin adorned the blonds' face, filling the woman with warmth, "Weiss?"

A sweet smile grew on Weiss' face, "It's been a long time Jaune."


End file.
